


The Direwolf and his Kraken

by SymbioticWritings



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Boys In Love, Falling In Love, First Kiss, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Pre-A Game of Thrones, Robb Stark is a Gift, Staring, Theon Greyjoy is a Gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymbioticWritings/pseuds/SymbioticWritings
Summary: Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy are best friends.and is it really Robb's fault that Theon is easy on the eyes?ORFive times Robb got caught staring at Theon, and the one time the direwolf caught his kraken staring at him
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	The Direwolf and his Kraken

**Author's Note:**

> The majority of this fic is set before the events of Season I Episode I occur, with the exception of the +1

**I.**

If Robb Stark was meant to be as truthful as his mother had taught him to be since he was young, then Robb would have to admit that he was not a fan of the longsword.

Perhaps _hated_ was a better word.

Nothing felt natural about the blade, and Robb assumed that he looked like a newborn fawn trying to stand when he held it.

Throw any other type of blade into his hand however, Robb was just as dangerous as a wolf was when defending its kill.

Yet Robb suspected an ulterior motive behind all these sudden lessons with Ser Rodrik; his inheritance.

Once Lord Eddard Stark passed away, Robb was destined to claim not only his father's titles and lands, but his family's sword -- Ice.

If Robb was to wield Ice one-day, a longsword, it only made sense if he learned how to _properly wield_ it.

… the only issue was actually learning just _how_ to use it.

As if to help him, or embarrass him, Ser Rodrik had Robb learn with his bastard brother -- Jon Snow. The only issue with that, was that Jon was already bloody decent at using the damn blade.

Jon was also quite thick-headed when he wanted to be, not seeming to notice how much Robb stumbled over his own feet, twisted the sword unsurely in his hands, or better yet, how Robb even dropped the bloody thing once or twice... or maybe three times.

A painfully loud screech of metal rang out around the courtyard as the two blunted blades clashed with each other. The force that Jon had pressed on Robb was enough to make the proper brother stumble backwards, struggling to regain his footing as Jon and him slowly circled each other.

"Watch how your opponent is moving," Ser Rodrik called out from the sidelines, sighing as Robb had nearly dropped the longsword yet again, "Take in how they're moving, the stance they're in or even how they're handling their own weapon. All of this will tell you what their next move most likely will be."

The advice was clearly meant for Robb, but Jon never caught the memo.

But before Robb could comprehend his next move, Jon was already set upon him. Swinging his blade hard, Jon twisted the shaky hold until the sword had practically leapt from Robb's hands and rattled into the dirt at their feet. A sharp pressure was applied to Robb's throat, and the older brother didn't need to look down in order to see the tip of that blunted blade pressed lightly into the base of his throat.

"Yield," Jon Snow said breathlessly, breath heavy as Robb rested his head back in defeat. From the way that Jon's whiskey gaze glittered, Robb knew the message behind that light scowl 'I bested the nobler brother'.

Slowly, Jon removed the point at his throat and stepped away, letting a bashful Robb pick up the sword from the dirt; muttering curses as he went. He supposed he should be thankful that Ser Rodrik insisted that they train early -- to avoid the stares of the castle workers.

The only other eyes on them were Arya, Theon and Mikken -- who was only glancing at the fight, more fixated on forging the mock Dothraki _arakh_ for his father.

As Robb grasped the hilt, his eyes darted up to Theon.

The man in question had come rather late to the duel, saving Robb a few embarrassing moments of him nearly dropping the blade and tripping over his own feet in the very beginning. Yet no doubt Arya had already told the Greyjoy about it.

He dressed himself in dark browns, with a flash of gold resting on his neck. The gold being a kraken clasp that Robb  had custom-made for Theon's eighteenth name-day, replacing that simple nub Theon was using before.

There was this certain... allure to Theon, a feeling that was misty in Robb's mind whenever he was around the Greyjoy.

Taken from the Iron Islands when he was just a boy, Theon was raised to be like another brother to Robb and the rest of the Stark children ( including Jon Snow ).

However, Ned's eldest child and Balon's last surviving son had the closest bond compared to the others -- and it was their bond was what had ended up sparking a feeling inside of Robb. It was a feeling that only came around whenever Theon was with him. It came when he thought of Theon, when Theon laughed or when he smiled, or even when their shoulders touched as they walked together, talking with smiles on their faces.

It was the type of feeling that Robb just wasn't able to feel when it was girls who did the same exact things to him.

Robb had learned much from Sansa and her ramblings about knights and princesses and stolen kisses and forbidden romances to know that he had a crush on Theon. Yet it was fear that kept him silent.

Another sense of vulnerability rose over Robb like one of his surcoats, and it took Robb a moment to realize that Theon was looking right back at him with that shit-eating grin he always seemed to have whenever something amusing aroused near the boy.

It was as if time had slowed for the Stark, with Robb not letting his gaze wander away from Theon's as he took in the darkness of his eyes. They looked grey-

"Robb!"

A frantic voice snapped Robb out of his daze, and he barely had time to realize that Jon had already swung his blade into Robb's side. He had also suddenly noticed that the ground was much closer than before, and the air was knocked from his lungs.

Coughing to catch his breath, Robb's gaze was interrupted by two faces; the concerned look from Jon and the mildly amused one of Theon. At once Robb flushed as he accepted both of their hands to pull him to his feet. "Are you alright?" Jon's worried question was answered with a gentle nod from Robb as he slowly regained his composure.

Unconsciously, a hand darted to Robb's hip where Jon had smacked him, knowing a bruise would most likely later that night. Jon had reached down to retrieve Robb's sword, and Theon swatted at Robb's shoulders and mussed his hair. When Robb gave the younger boy a puzzled look, Theon only cracked a wide and lopsided smile, "Wouldn't want the ladies getting covered in dirt," It wasn't the implication that sent Robb into a flush, it was Theon's little wink.

Ser Rodrik had saved him from answering the kraken with his own response, saving him another shred of pride, and for once he was thankful for his long lectures directed to the one and only Robb Stark.

"-and don't forget that distraction is one of the main reasons men fall in battle," the old knight was rambling, "Keeping your focus will-"

 _Theon isn't a distraction_ , Robb thought, nervously casting a glance at the slightly shorter boy at his left, dark eyes -- _grey_ eyes -- fixated at something in the sky. Robb had half a mind to follow that gaze. _He's just... Theon_.

**II.**

Robb found himself rather flustered and picking at his palm through the leather of his glove, as he left Maester Luwin's study.

He had gone in for one of his few lessons for the day, expecting to continue his learning on how to read and speak in different languages. At the moment, Robb was working on mastering the dialect in Slaver's Bay; low Valyrian. Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen shared the same base language, but each city had a slightly different version of it. A higher pitch instead of a lower one, a roll on the s' over the r's -- slight changes that can mean an entirely different word in either of the three cities.

If Robb was lucky, he might have been able to convince Maester Luwin to let him practice his rough Dothraki ( one of Robb's guilty pleasures, he had always been fascinated by the lifestyles of the horse-warriors in his youth ). But luck was not on his side lately.

Both his father and his mother waited inside of the study alongside the Maester, waiting to educate their eldest with the one vital lesson that would help secure the Stark's hold in Winterfell for generations to come; marriage.

On a scroll, the concept was plain and simple; Robb would be betrothed to a young and healthy girl, and after they both reached the appropriate age, they would be wedded. An heir would be born nine months later with a direwolf at its throat.

Simple... but Robb found his nerves dancing with every thought of marriage.

Would he even be able to accept the hand of a girl he'd never even met before? Never having the chance to know what her favorite song was? What her favorite food was? What her favorite dress was? To know if she even loved him and vice versa? His mother had reassured him that it was normal to be nervous, even admitting that she herself wasn't ready to marry Ned, but had fallen in love with him over the years after the Usurping of Aerys Targaryen. 

Robb didn't want it to be years for his future wife to finally accept him.

He knew a marriage would be unavoidable; if he were to lay claim that Sansa's future child ( Arya would never settle down ) would be his heir, whomever she married might argue his family was more desirable for the seat at Winterfell. It would be far safer to name his own flesh and blood as heir.

A marriage that was born in northern soil would be more accepted by his people.

House Mormont was quite open about how loyal they were to the Starks, but they only had two women of noble birth. The widow Maege Mormont was far more bear than woman, and much older than his own mother. Her little daughter, Lady Lyanna Mormont, was just a year older than Arya, but a year younger than Sansa -- and Robb was against marrying a girl the around same age as his baby sisters.

Houses Karstark, Umber and Glover had their own share of daughters, but Robb know that his father would kindly reject their offers.

House Bolton, despite being farther south than the north would've like, would've been the desirable match. Roose Bolton was a powerful and cunning man, but he had no daughters and was still unwed -- his only family being a bastard son that lived with him.

Or... Robb could dig farther away from the frigid north, and marry a daughter from the south.

King Robert and Lord Ned were rather close, it would be easy to arrange the marriage between Princess Myrcella Baratheon and future-Lord Robb Stark. Yet Myrcella had Lannister blood in her, and royalty or not, she would not be loved in the north.

Lord Mace Tyrell had a beautiful daughter, the "Rose of Highgarden" as they called her, Lady Margaery. She was claimed to be well loved by her own people, and the allegiance in the Reach would be proven well for the north -- but Mace wouldn't part with his only daughter so easily. Margaery would come with a price.

Prince Doran had his own daughter, the eldest of his children, Princess Arianne Martell. Copper-skinned, dark hair and almond-colored eyes, Dornish beauty was an exotic and tasteful one. However, Arianne was to inherit Dorne after her father's passing -- and Dornish vipers were not easily charmed out of their nests-

_Greyjoy_ , Robb thought with a sudden jolt that made him nearly stumble. All the thoughts of Myrcella, Margaery and Arianne wiped clean from his mind. _There's House Greyjoy, of the Iron Islands and Pyke_.

The Greyjoys were both up in the north _and_ were a high-respected House.

Lord Balon and his wife had four children, and one of them was a girl; Yara.

Yara must've been just a year or two older than Robb himself. Either way, his father could have the two marry to ensure Balon's further loyalty -- two children ashore, why risk lashing out again?

Yara Greyjoy of Pyke in the Iron Islands would find herself as Yara Stark of Winterfell. She would give Robb a child or two, more importantly an heir to the North; but doubt wrapped its slimy tentacles around his head.

He had heard countless rumors regarding Yara whenever Jory and his father spoke of the krakens, and he had read a little on Maester Luwin's scrolls during one his lessons while the maester was distracted with the ravens.

The daughter of the golden kraken was nothing like a lady.

She was rumored to dress as a man, talked and ate like one. Able to drink anyone under a table and still be sober enough to win a fist fight. There was even talk that she had laid with women like one. Yara manned her own ship and commanded her own crew. There was even a rumor that Yara would claim the Seastone Chair at Pyke after her father passed, should Theon remain ashore with the direwolves.

Yara didn't sound like a girl who dreamt of love, marriage and children. She sounded like a girl who would scoff at the idea and suggest things that would make all the gods shiver. There was no way-

 _Theon_ , Robb thought with another rigorous jolt that made him actually fall, _I could marry Theon_. He flushed as he picked himself up. The rules never specified that he had to marry a lord's _daughter_ , but it wasn't exactly accepted for a man to marry another man.

But they could still be married -- even if it had to be in secret.

Robb could even picture their wedding.

Theon would be dressed in all black, with subtle flashes of gold along the seams of his outfit. A long black cloak with the giant golden kraken of his House would be on his back, held in place by the clasp Robb had given him.

Robb would be a stark contrast compared to him. Dressed instead in light greys with a long white cloak on his back, a silver direwolf running across a snowy field.

They would stand underneath the weirwood tree, dark scarlet leaves framing their ceremony with the cold winter breeze at their necks -- faces flushed from both the cold and the prospect of marrying each other.

Robb would remove both of their cloaks, exchanging them in the symbol of protection -- vowing to always defend Theon from harm.

Both of their hands would intertwine and vows would exchanged. Theon Greyjoy would become Theon Stark, and they would seal their marriage with a kiss-

Stop, Robb had to slap the side of his head with a leather clad hand. _Men aren't supposed to lay with men_. _It's a sin_. He had to remind himself, not wanting to raise his hopes up for something that would eventually crash and burn. Mayhaps the Drowned God wasn't oppressed, but Maester Luwin barely mentioned the Ironborn's god.

A fit of giggles and laughter drew Robb out from his thoughts of marriage and Theon, and just as Robb looked up from his feet, did he feel his face go warm.

Theon had pressed a serving-girl up against the stone wall, a secluded area that was only taken if someone needed to speak to the maester. The two where whispering to each other in hushed tones, a giggle following every now and then. One of his hands was on her thigh, rubbing it through the wool of her simple dress.

Robb's first instinct was to turn around, and go the long way back to his room. To forget he even saw what happened and act normal if he saw Theon later that day.

But there was another feeling... one that urged him to stay and to watch.

It was a like a wolf was inside of him, making him wish that it was instead _Theon_ against the wall and _Robb_ was holding him there.

He wanted to make Theon squirm in his hold, make him gasp and clutch Robb's arms as the Stark rubbed against his leg and whispered sweet things into his ear. Wanted to make him long for Robb's co-

"Stop!" A high pitched shriek snapped Robb out from his gaze, and he froze vigorously when he noticed that the girl was staring right at him. She was frantically slapping Theon's shoulders in an attempt to push him off of her, "Stop! Stop you idiot! Your friend is staring! I thought you said-"

Robb never caught the end of her wrathful shrieks, blushing wildly when Theon caught his eyes.

Those dark eyes were clouded with lust as he titled his head towards the side. His lips cracked into a lopsided smile and parted to something that Robb assumed was witty, but he never caught the end of it either.

His feet were already moving, turning back to the way that he had originally came, doing his best to ignore the blistering heat in his cheeks.

Robb also tried to forget about the look in Theon's eyes.

**III.**

They were always together.

To everyone, it simply looked like two friends just hanging out with each other.

To Theon, it must've been something like two brothers bonding with each other.

To Robb, it was him trying to figure out his feelings. Plus, he had wanted to get more time alone with the kraken.

Hence why the two boys were out in the Wolfswood together and alone.

Robb had used the excuse of needing a new lining for his gloves, and Theon had eagerly agreed to join him; his reasons unknown, but Robb hadn't dwelled on that. He had just assumed that Theon would sell whatever he caught afterwards.

They both agreed it would be easier to travel lightly, for themselves and the horses, and only wanted to spend three nights at most in the woods. Together they had packed five weapons between them, a sack of food for the both of them, and materials needed to set up a small camp.

Two of their five weapons were the exact same; a bow and its arrows.  And quite similar to the issue with the longsword, Robb was utterly useless a the bow.

The string would always whip him in the forearm, leaving a nasty red burn for a day or two. He always dropped his arrows or they would go limp if he managed to actually loose one. If he was even lucky, sometimes the entire bloody thing would fly from his hands.

Despite all of his errors, Robb was determined to use the bloody thing -- since Theon was the one who was teaching him. The younger boy was seemingly born with his talents on the bow, and he seemed content enough to watch Robb struggle endlessly with it.

The two boys had already caught a winter-fox and now were tracking a deer, finally coming across the doe as she grazed along the light shrubs in the small clearing.

In seemingly just a second, Theon had already drawn up his bow and notched one of his arrows with ease. Robb was struggling to simply reach behind him and _grab_ an arrow from his quiver.

Giving up on reaching for an arrow, Robb settled to watch Theon.

The Greyjoy was standing still, his arms straight and relaxed as the feather in his hand-made arrow rested on his cheek as the string grew taut. He seemed at ease, breath as soft as a whisper as his hand released the end of the arrow.

The doe had fallen with a loud thump.

But that didn't matter right now, Robb was more fixated on how dark Theon's eyes were.

He had always known the younger boy had dark eyes; all Ironborn had dark eyes. Theon's eyes, however, were a different shade of dark.

They looked like two pieces of coal.

A light pressure on Robb's shoulder drew Robb from his staring. Theon's light smile turned into his shit-eating grin as he angled his head towards the doe.

He hadn't seemed to care that Robb was staring, and Robb -- still transfixed on those dark, handsome eyes -- didn't even recognize the flush in Theon's cute and unique face.

"Come along, Lord Blue-Eyes," the kraken teased, his tone matched the smug in his dark eyes, "Let's get that doe before your sigil does."

Robb didn't catch the meaning behind Theon's little 'Lord Blue-Eyes' nickname, only nodding with an eye roll. "Direwolves don't come this far south," He said instead, falling in step with the younger boy.

Theon laughed, and Robb found himself watching how the sunlight caught that mouse-brown hair.

And how the sun made those dark eyes just a little shade lighter.

**IV.**

Rising early was something that his father had given him.

Robb would find himself waking just when the ashes of his fireplace would die and burn out. The wind would bring a chill from the Wall that nipped at his nose through the cracks of his latched window.

Once the bitter cold had chased away his drowsiness, Robb would set himself on getting ready for the day.

He tossed on a pair of dark brown breeches, matching it with a slightly lighter tunic before he stopped and reached over to a small chest sitting atop one of his drawers.

In it, Robb pulled out a little silver necklace that Sansa had made for her big brother during one of her more private lessons with Septa Mordane. She had picked out a smooth silver chain and then requested a wolf's-eye gem for the centerpiece. When it was finished, Sansa had eagerly handed it over to Robb when he was talking to Theon, Jon and one of stable-boys.

Despite flushing like a fire when Sansa had pressed it into his hands, he wore it every day. It was a sense of love for his sister, and he secretly hoped Arya would craft him something so he could keep it close to him as well.

Robb placed the necklace underneath his tunic, throwing on a light vest before reaching for one of his leather surcoats. All of it would be topped with a thick bear-skin cloak to chase away the summer-chills, and a silver direwolf clasp that Theon had gifted him for his own name-day -- in return for the golden one that never left Theon's throat.

As the sun slowly crept over the land, and the castle slowly woke up, Robb found himself standing in front of his looking-glass -- a gift from his late-grandfather, Rickard Stark -- with a slight tilt in his head.

He was rather attractive, if he could say so without being vain. He had light ringlets and a little bit of a stubble in the color of scarlet-red and dusty-brown. His eyes, between two soft lids, were the color of a river in the Summer Isles; bright blue. Perhaps the blue was toned down due to the Stark in him, but it was clear to anyone that Robb Stark had a parent with Tully blood in them.

It was no wonder why some women in the castle would give him long and lasting looks, with flutters of their eyelashes and a lingering hand or two if they were able to briefly touch the Lord's son.

Their attention and boldness is what made him nervous -- something that Theon had called being a prude. When a girl had bravely asked if Robb wanted to spend the night with her in her chambers to keep her warm, he had panicked. Quietly suggesting to place an extra log or two into her fire before he quickly turned heel and left -- dragging a hysterical Theon behind him and fighting the raging fire in his cheeks.

Robb wasn't scared of women, or even the thought of being with them... he just, didn't feel the same way. Aye they were gorgeous, but his heart never moved for them the way it did whenever a certain boy talked to him, or smiled at him with that lopsided smile, or brushed against him while they walked together.

Doing his best to push away any thoughts that may cause him to be delayed for breakfast, Robb finished placing on his boots and lacing them up before he adjusted his cloak -- making sure that the direwolf clasp was flashing proudly at his throat.

Ned would already be down in the Great Hall, talking with Maester Luwin for any news that had reached Winterfell either that morning or late at night -- whether it be from King's Landing, a southern lord, the Citadel or just another lord in the North.

Jon would most likely be down there too, until Robb's mother would appear in the doorway. Then he would politely excuse himself with a loaf of bread and vanished to whatever he would do during the start of the day.

Lady Catelyn and Rickon would sit after Jon left, the youngest of the Starks yawning as he settled in for his morning food.

Not long after them, Arya and Bran would follow.

For the two of them, it was a race to see who could escape their mother's grasp. Arya was quick and was not opposed to wiggling her way out of her mother's hold and ripping something, rushing off to find where Jon went to. Bran would talk his way out of staying with the family, far more intent to climb up to the Broken Tower and feed the crows nesting there.

Sansa was always the last one to leave, typically alongside Robb -- who waited for his little sister, refusing to admit it to the scarlet-haired beauty.

There was a scuffling of feet in the hall, and a bunch of laughter that Robb knew belonged to Arya and Bran -- both on their way to avoid their mother. Once the echoes of their feet and laughter stopped, Robb left his room.

He had learned the hard way to avoid getting trampled by those two.

Light from the sun and the smell of a fresh fire had caught Robb's eye, and he didn't even realize that he had stopped walking until the pale skin of Theon's chest came into his line of sight.

It took Robb another moment to process what was happening; Theon was getting changed.

Robb didn't even take into consideration that he was openly standing in the hallways, mouth slightly agape, staring into the slight crack in Theon's door.

The kraken had chose to wear grey, his hands working on the laces of his breeches.

Compared to Robb, Theon was thin. His muscles were lean and sharp, giving him an agile appearance rather than the bulk Robb had. Still, it was clear that Theon was toned, and Robb's eyes traced the lines of muscles that would lead down to his coc-

"Morning, Lord Blue-Eyes,"

Robb flinched too much for his liking, blue eyes locking with dark grey ones.

"Uh, m-morning... Lord Kraken," Robb stuttered out, mentally cursing himself for the stupid nickname. However, a smile broke across his face when he noticed that Theon was giving him one of those adorable lopsided smiles. He urged himself not to adjust the collar of his surcoat.

"Quite creative there, Robb." Theon laughed out, his dark eyes flashing with something that Robb couldn't catch. It was only then that Robb noticed just how close Theon was, pressed up against the edge of his door -- still shirtless.

 _Did I lace my breeches too tight?_ Robb wondered, praying that he didn't start blushing. "Care to join me?" He suddenly found himself saying, mentally screaming as he watched Theon's eyebrows arch up in confusion, "t-to the archery section after breakfast?" He quickly added, letting out a quiet breath when Theon let out a small laughter.

He tilted his head, and Robb couldn't tell if his cheeks were pink or not. "Sure," Theon said, "After breakfast."

"After breakfast."

"Well then," Theon straightened up, slightly craning his neck to look up at the taller boy. Robb had to force away a thought of laying his lips on that neck and sucking. "I hope you don't cry when the string hits your arm again, Robb."

"Oh really?" Robb said, narrowing his eyes as his lips curled into a playful smile, "Then _you_ better not cry when your arrow goes missing when I shoot it."

"As if you can even loose it properly."

Robb crossed his arms over his chest, giving an exaggerated huff of disbelief. "Is that how you talk to your future lord?"

Theon gave him one of his smirks, taking a step closer to Robb and out of his room. It wouldn't take much for Robb to reach out and grab Theon's slim hips. "It's how I've always talked to him, and it's not going to change," His dark eyes caught the silver pin at Robb's throat, and looked off towards the side. "Unless you suddenly become King." It was quiet, almost a whisper.

 _You wouldn't have to speak any differently_ , Robb almost said, but bit his tongue instead.

"I'll see you after breakfast," Theon chirped after a brief moment of silence, and Robb found himself nodding in agreement. "Till then, Lord Blue-Eyes."

"Till then, Lord Kraken." Robb said, hearing Theon's beautiful laugh as the door clicked shut.

Robb found himself staring at the closed door for a moment longer, a content smile on his face.

"Robb?'

Sansa's sudden and soft voice made Ned Stark's eldest child, the heir to Winterfell and the next Warden of the North, fall flat on his ass.

**V.**

Jon had gone much harder than he usually did during their training session with Ser Rodrik, as if he was channeling his anger into each of his swings.

Robb could just _feel_ it in his arms; a persistent ache that longed to be soothed.

He had gone to Maester Luwin for milk of the poppy after being dismissed by the knight, wanting to sleep off his soreness. Instead, the old maester suggested to soak in the hot springs for an hour or two, allowing for the hot water to ease away the tenderness.

Dull to the world, Robb let his feet guide him through the godswood and towards the hot springs as he tried to imagine the warmth of the water on his skin.

A soft sigh of content escaped from his lips as the thick warm air encased him in a light hug, and Robb found himself stopped at one of the springs near the narrow entrance. He didn't dare to go too far into the depths underneath Winterfell, where the hottest of the springs lay.

His fingers started to work on undoing the silver direwolf clasp, unhooking it from his throat and letting the heavy cloak fall from his broad shoulders.

As Robb bent down to pick up the discarded cloak to bundle it into a pile, he found himself frozen with a mixture of fear and shock.

Just a foot away from his own, was a messy pile of clothes. But that's not what cause Robb's heart to quicken its pace; it was that little golden kraken clasp that lay right at the top of the pile.

Theon Greyjoy was in here.

Near the far side of the pool, away from the clothing and Robb, lay the kraken.

He was slumped down in the water, his chin resting on the steam as little water droplets beaded off of his face. His mouse-brown hair turned dark and his skin was colored pink from the heat that radiated from the water. Those handsome dark eyes hid behind closed lids.

River-blue eyes took in the sight before him, and Robb felt a small smile creep on his face; Theon looked at ease, more than he usually did.

A small part of Robb wished that the water and the steam didn't fully obscure his view of the Greyjoy, and another part also wished that he was sitting more upright.

 _Enough_ , Robb had to chastise himself for those thoughts. He had already caught himself wishing that it was him pressing Theon up against a wall, or that Theon would walk around with a love-bite along his jawline, or that he was pressing Theon down on the furs late at night -- Robb didn't need another promiscuous addition to the growing collection.

"Robb?"

As if on cue, Robb's heart had jumped like a fleet-footed lizard-lion and he nearly found himself in the water. Theon had moved, the water splashing as he shifted just a little closer to the Stark, his head tilted up to look at him. Robb couldn't see what was in those dark colored eyes, and the wolf inside of him stirred.

Also on bloody cue, Robb found himself blurting out "Is it warm?" before he could stop himself and ask an actual question. _Is it warm? Might as well have asked to see his bloody cock you idiot_ , Robb scolded himself. Fighting the urge to slap himself upside the head.

Theon cracked a small smile, running his hand along the top of the water, watching as the steam curled around the half-submerged limb. "It's quite warm," was that sarcasm? "I never knew that Winterfell had these beneath it. Wonder why Ned never told me about them?"

Grateful that he didn't have to bear through another painful moment of that, Robb allowed himself a small breath of relief. "You're from the sea," He started, watching Theon's eyebrows arch up in curiosity, "Mayhaps my father knew that you'd never leave, if you were put back in the water."

Theon let out a laugh that made Robb's heart flutter, and he found himself letting out a small one as well. Theon's smile was wide, his hand rising through the steam to tap at the water as if it was a seat in the Great Hall. "Care to join me?" He asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"I'd love to," Robb found himself blurting out, not even realizing he just agreed to get into the pool.

Naked. With Theon. _Naked_.

"Then take off your pretty clothes and get your ass in here."

It took Robb a moment before the realization hit him hard in the face, chasing away the flutters from earlier. His first thought was to runaway, to be anywhere else in Westeros rather than in the hot springs, but Robb found himself staying.

Gooseflesh nibbled at his bare skin, and Robb used his foot to push his clothes into a second messy pile alongside Theon's.

Before taking a step into the warm water, Robb made sure that his direwolf clasp and necklace were settled at the top of his pile -- completely unaware that Theon's eyes were plastered on his body.

It was instant relief when Robb lowered himself into the warm water -- no, the _hot_ water --, the soreness momentarily brought back to the front of his thoughts; even trumping over the fact that he was naked next to an equally naked Theon.

Robb felt his eyes grow heavy, and he fought the urge to drift off for a quick nap.

The feeling of fingers ghosting along his hip startled Robb awake, the pressure of exhaustion chased away. He suppressed a flinch of shock when he realized just how close _Theon_ had gotten, and suppressed another one when he realized that it was _Theon_ who was touching his hip.

Robb had made sure to place a few feet between the two of them for the sake of property, but now-

"You know you're not sly," Theon's quiet voice seemed to echo rather loudly in the quietness.

"What?" Robb inquired, keeping his blue gaze fixed on Theon's dark one.

The kraken's eyes were fixed on his fingers that ghosted around the edge of Robb's nasty, but healing, bruise. Grey eyes hiding an emotion that Robb ached to know. "You're not sly," Theon said again, finally looking up and locking eyes with Robb. "You're actually quite obvious, it's kind of adorable."

While the confusion gnawed at Robb's stomach, he found himself excited nonetheless. Theon found _something_ he did adorable... was that a good thing?

"And what do I do that's so obvious?"

"You stare at me," came the breathless reply.

Robb froze, desperately willing his mind to work properly for once so he could spit back a witty reply, but found his mind empty and mouth rather dry. Theon's knee pressed hard against Robb's thigh, and if they moved anymore closer together, their noses would've brushed.

Theon seemed to take Robb's silence and wide-eyed expression as an invitation to tease him, lips quirking up into his signature smirk. "The first time was one of my favorites, it was during your training with Snow. You didn't even see the bastard swing at you, after all, you were to busy looking at my attractive-"

A muffled squeak of surprise was all that came out of Theon the moment Robb caught his lips with his own.

it was clumsy, proof of both Robb's inexperience and Theon's surprise; neither boys seemed to care though.

Robb Stark was kissing Theon Greyjoy

And Theon Greyjoy was kissing Robb Stark.

It ended as painfully fast as it was blissfully started, and Robb almost whined at the loss. Theon had pulled away only to move, crawling over Robb to rest on his lap, pressing his knees on either side of Robb's hips.

This time it was Theon who silenced Robb's startled gasp with his lips. Grinning into their kiss, Theon squeezed his knees together again, practically purring when Robb let out another gasp.

Forgetting his soreness once more, Robb let his hands explore Theon's lustrous body. He found that they rested pleasantly on his ass, giving the flesh a light squeeze and this time it was Robb who grinned into their kiss as Theon jumped in his hold.

Hands wandered over Robb's body, trailing through his chest hair and through the start of Robb's beard before coming to a rest in his damp ringlets. Theon gave a light tug on them, pulling another pleasant gasp from the older boy.

Again they pulled apart, Robb attempting to recapture those perfect lips before Theon stopped him by pressing their foreheads together.

Theon slumped in Robb's hold, his weight pressing on Robb's legs as their hard cocks rubbed against each others. They were panting, quietly regaining their breath as they looked at each other.

His kraken looked disheveled; cheeks a burning red that spread all the way down to his chest, lips plump and wet, and his dark eyes were clouded with lust and admiration. He also seemed to look relieved.

Robb could only imagine that he looked the exact same.

But he didn't care. Theon was sitting on his lap, and they had kissed.

Twice.

"Took you long enough," Theon said after their breathing had quieted down, catching Robb's river-blue eyes.

"What?" Robb had asked, but he was currently distracted as his hands rested on Theon's hips. They seemed to fit there perfectly, as if Theon's hips were made to be held by Robb.

"You know," Theon rolled his hips lightly, and Robb sucked in a quick breath at the sensation, "To finally kiss me, Lord Blue-Eyes."

Robb found himself torn between wanting to kiss Theon again or dunk him into the water.

He did both.

**+I**

Bran's excited giggles were all what Robb needed to hear in order to know that he was happy.

The earlier execution of the Night's Watch deserter was gone from his mind, as the tan-grey bundle of fur nipped at the gloved fingers of his little brother.

Even Jon was happy, albeit not as giggly as Bran was, his soft smile betrayed his happiness with the silent white pup in his hold -- even if Theon had called the pup a runt and mocked the pair, yet Robb suspected Theon only meant it as a jest.

All together, there had been six direwolf pups. The remaining three would be going to Sansa, Arya and Rickon once the party had returned to Winterfell. Robb found himself laughing at the thought of his mother's expression when she saw the pups.

The squirming in his arms brought his attention back to the two pups he was holding; the large dark grey male was his chosen pup, squirming in his hold as he nipped at Robb's surcoat. The other pup was a light grey female, her head resting on Robb's elbow as she watched the passing forest.

Robb suspected that his pup was the eldest out of the six, and he found himself smiling at the thought. It was fitting, for the oldest of the Stark children to have the oldest of the direwolves.

"We should get along great," He cooed to the dark pup, his smile growing larger as he watched the tiny head stop the attack on his wrist to tilt it's head towards the side. "We both have younger siblings, so we know how much of a pain they can be."

The pup answered him with a hard bite.

Unable to suppress a laugh, Robb looked over towards the quiet pup. She had moved from looking at the forest, to watching her brother calmly. In a sense, this little pup reminded Robb of Sansa. "I think I'll call him Biter, or Jaws," He said to her, "What do you think?"

The male let out a little growl, as if he was mad at the two suggestions. Abandoning the attack on Robb's wrist, the dark pup went to pull on one of the slightly loose strings on Robb's surcoat. "Hey! Hey! _Hey_!" Robb suddenly shouted, attempting to pull the feisty pup away from his surcoat. "Don't chew that! _Hey_!"

Something ripped, and Robb sighed loudly as he watched the pup roll to it's sister with a long brown string in it's mouth and paws. The light grey one lightly nipped at her brother, but she soon began a game of tug-of-war for the string.

As he watched the two wrestle, Robb found himself following a sudden urge to look towards his left. His smile turning into a wide smirk when he realized what was behind his urge to look.

Theon Greyjoy was staring right at him.

His handsome kraken had yet to notice that Robb had caught him, watching the Stark with a soft smile on his lips. When he did however notice those river-blue eyes on him, Theon's face blossomed scarlet as he ducked his head to avoid the teasing look that Robb was giving the younger boy.

Robb couldn't hold back a laugh full of admiration for the kraken. Pulling on the reigns of his horse, Robb slowly matched the speed of Theon's trot, and the Greyjoy ended up turning his head in the opposite direction to avoid eye-contact with the Stark.

Honestly it was rather adorable to Robb.

His river-blue eyes traveled down to Theon's gloved hands, where they gripped tightly onto the reins. A wave of feelings overtook Robb with such a strong force, it made his heart throb.

Robb wanted to reach out and hold those hands.

He wanted to lean over and kiss that handsome little face till they both were out of breath.

Robb wanted to hug that shorter boy so tight until he squirmed with laughter.

He wanted to color the kraken in silver rather than gold.

Robb wanted to press Theon against a wall and kiss him mad.

He wanted to tell his parents about Theon.

Robb wanted Theon Greyjoy to become Theon Stark.

If only things were different.

If only the gods accepted the fact that a man could love a man the same way that a man does a woman.

For now, their desires would have to remain in the dark.

"Something caught your eye?" Robb whispered softly, teasing his lover. That had earned Theon's bright red face, sporting a pout on his cute lips. _Bloody hell_ , Robb wanted to kiss that pout away with such ferocity that it made his cock stir in his breeches.

"I don't want to be kicked out tonight," Theon whispered back, dark eyes casted towards the dark pup -- growling as the light one had won the tug-of-war.

Robb could barely stop the laugh, "Are you jealous, Theon Greyjoy? Of a direwolf pup?"

Theon's dark eyes widened, and he quickly turned his head away once more. "N-No!" He choked out, "I'm _not_ jealous!"

Thankful that Ned was too busy talking, and that Jon and Bran were both too fixated on their own pups, Robb shifted his horse as close as he could get to Theon. He attempted to earn the Greyjoy's eyes with his charming smile, but Theon strained in his saddle to look away. "Theon," Robb tried, frowning slightly when Theon refused to turn his head. " _Theon_ ," nothing. "Theon, _please_ look at me." Robb knew Theon liked it when he begged -- he had learned that the hard way one night when he let Theon rid him.

Robb had to remind himself that he was holding direwolf pups, or else he would've reached out and stroked those handsome cheeks. "He may be cute and I'll definitely have to train him so he doesn't wreck Winterfell, but the nights are still ours. You're still mine, I promise."

"Now and always?" Theon's quiet whisper made Robb's heart flutter with relief, a smile breaking across his face. He nearly pressed a kiss to those lips.

"Now and always."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very bad at writing smut, even if it's just a little bit.
> 
> I kind of picture a 'wolfs-eye gem' to be something like an obsidian stone.  
> I also see Robb and Sansa having the best bond in the Stark family.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading this mess. Leave a comment or kudos!  
> ~ Emma


End file.
